


Just a Part of the Job

by wanheda_two_heda



Series: Bellarke Smut Prompts [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: Keeping Bellamy happy and relaxed is just a part of Clarke's job as her assistant, but neither expected the feelings that came with the months of illicit, after hours sex.





	Just a Part of the Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asroarke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/gifts).

> This is me trying to break my writer's block. Comments and kudos are very appreciated.
> 
> And in keeping with tradition, happy birthday, Alex! Enjoy your birthday porn, my friend. I love you!

Clarke closes her eyes and lets her head drop in her hands, unable to look at the numbers that keep blurring together any longer. It’s almost midnight, and everyone went home hours ago. Everyone except her overworked, overtired boss. 

Bellamy had insisted on staying to finish the reports tonight, and one pleading look from him was all it took for Clarke to reschedule the night off she had planned with a bubble bath and a bottle of wine. 

The intercom on her phone chimes, startling her in the eerie quiet of the empty office. “Clarke, can you come into my office please?” 

She recaps her highlighter, her insides warming at the sound of his voice and the excitement it brings her. She didn’t set out to be the stereotypical office blonde, the assistant that sleeps with her boss on the sly when he’s too stressed out and too busy to go home to his wife, but somehow, that’s exactly what she’d turned into. She couldn’t even stand Bellamy when he took over for Marcus Kane, but working in close proximity had made one thing lead to another and then one night, a heated argument had ended with Bellamy bending her over his desk and fucking her from behind in a bout of stress relief they both desperately needed. 

But that was over a year ago. Things were different now. She and Bellamy were friends, and he’d left that cheating wife he was too busy to go home to. Now, when late nights at the office turned into trysts behind his desk, it wasn’t quick and rough and dirty. It was gentle and slow. Bellamy was softer with her, more caring, more into the actual act than just chasing a desperate release. If she asked Raven, her friend would tell her that they stopped fucking months ago, and what they were doing now was more akin to making love. But Clarke didn’t want to think about that. Bellamy wasn’t looking for love. He was too busy for it. And if he did want to start seeing someone again, Clarke’s sure it would be someone more in his own league. 

She pushes open the door slowly to find Bellamy leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, almost like she’d been just before he paged her. His hair is disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it for hours, and his top button is undone, his tie pulled loose. Clarke finds him the most attractive like this, she just hates the mental exhaustion that brings him here. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, walking around his desk. 

Bellamy smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks so tired. “C’mere,” he says, reaching out to her. 

And who is she to deny him. Clarke walks forward and Bellamy wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her and pressing his face against her soft belly. Clarke stands between his legs and cards her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead and scratching at his scalp. Bellamy makes a happy sound in the back of his throat and wraps his arms tighter around her. 

“You need to rest,” she tells him softly, running her hands through his messy black curls. 

“Tell me about it,” he mumbles into her shirt. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” she says with a smile, happy to be the one to give him just a little bit of a break. 

Bellamy brings his hands to her hips, his long fingers easily able to untuck her blouse from her black skirt. 

“Yeah,” he sighs happily. 

Clarke cradles his head against her, one hand sliding down his back to scratch between his shoulder blades, sending a shiver down his spine. She scratches the hair at the base of his neck and Bellamy noses at the fabric of her white blouse, nudges it out of the way so he can lay a kiss against her hip bone. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he says sleepily. Bellamy always gets softer when he’s tired. 

Clarke leans down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course you do. You’re amazing.” Even she can hear the reverence in her voice. 

Bellamy leans his chin against her abdomen and tilts his head back to look at her. “You think so?” he asks, looking up at her with hooded eyes. 

Clarke pushes his hair back and leans forward to press a kiss to his cheekbone, near the corner of his eye. And then a second kiss to the other side, before finally sealing her lips over his and kissing him softly. 

“Come here,” he says softly, almost pleading. 

His big hands slide around to her back and pull her into him. Clarke toes off her stilettos and settles on his lap, her knees bracketing his hips, her skirt stretching and riding up her thighs. Bellamy’s hands slide up to her ribs when Clarke wraps her arms around his neck and closes her eyes, ducking her head to meet his lips in a slow, languorous kiss. His mouth moves with hers, warm and gentle, finally taking a temporary reprieve from what could easily be described as their busiest week this year. 

“Let me make you feel good,” Clarke whispers against his mouth. 

“You are,” he answers back, not letting her pull away so he can keep kissing her. 

Bellamy nips at her lower lip and Clarke sighs, her arms locking firmly around his neck as she gives into the kiss. She swipes her tongue against the seam of his lips, making Bellamy groan. When he doesn’t open his mouth to her, Clarke chastises him by biting down on his bottom lip, waiting a moment to soothe the sting with a gentle pass of her tongue. 

Bellamy relents and parts his lips, letting her caress his tongue with her own. She can taste the excessive amount of coffee he’s drank to stay awake; it nearly masks the taste of him. Bellamy pulls her forward on his lap, flush against his chest, and leans into her to deepen the kiss. Clarke arches her back, pushing her breasts up against him as she feels him grow harder beneath her. He breaks away from her to drag his lips to her jaw, just behind her ear, and trails hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. 

Clarke slides her hands between them and deftly pops open the buttons on her blouse. She shrugs it off her shoulders and slips a hand into Bellamy’s hair, guiding his head and exploring mouth to the valley between her generous chest. Bellamy chuckles against her skin and Clarke’s heart races at the heat of his breath on her. She rolls her hips, dragging herself against the hardened length of his cock, her panties growing wet with desire. 

Bellamy buries his face into her cleavage, his tongue searching for her nipple, circling it when he finally finds it. He reaches between them to pull down the cup of her bra and give himself better access, sucking her nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. Clarke gasps and lets her head fall back, arching her back and pushing her chest into his face. Bellamy reaches over to pull her other tit free from her bra, palming her and rolling her taut nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

Clarke reaches behind herself and undoes the clasp on her bra, lets the constricting fabric fall away. Bellamy moves his mouth to her other nipple, taking just as much time with this one as with the first. His hands move between them and he unbuttons her shirt while he works her with his mouth. He slides his hands up to her shoulders when he has all the buttons undone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He moves his mouth back up to her neck as he pushes her opened blouse and bra straps down her arms and discards them somewhere behind them. 

“You’ve worked so hard, Bell,” Clarke whispers against his mouth while she traces the hard line of his jaw with her fingertips. “Let me suck you off, and you can just lean back and relax.”

Bellamy’s arm wraps around her waist and holds her down so he can thrust against her core and make he feel how hard he is. “You’re staying right here,” he says, his voice already gravelly. 

His commanding authority has a rush of arousal coating the insides of her thighs. Clarke reaches up and works on undoing the knot of his tie, pulling the silk away from his neck before slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. She kisses the hard lines of his chest as she exposes more skin, feeling his warmth against her mouth. Bellamy helps her pull his shirt off, and Clarke gasps at the feeling of his skin against her own. Her pebbled nipples brush against his chest and it sends a shiver down her spine. 

Bellamy wraps his arm around her and kisses her languidly. She sighs against him and lets his tongue delve into her mouth to caress her own. Clarke reaches down to his belt and starts unfastening the buckle. She likes it when Bellamy is soft and slow, but she needs to feel him inside her before she combusts with desire. Bellamy swats her hand away and slides his hand up her leg and beneath her skirt.

“Slow down,” he says against her mouth. “Why are you always so against me getting you off first?”

Clarke moves down to mouth against his jaw and pulls his earlobe between her teeth before answering. “I just like making you feel good,” she says honestly.

“Has it ever occurred to you that making you come is my favorite part of this little arrangement?” 

Clarke pulls back to look at him and finds Bellamy already looking at her, his eyes dark and hooded with desire. “Touch me,” she says, holding his hungry gaze.

Bellamy pushes her panties aside and runs his finger along her slit, making Clarke tremble and gasp, her grip on his shoulder tightening when he trips over her clit. 

“You’re so wet,” he says, his voice low and strained. He drops his head to her shoulder and buries his face against the side of her neck. “God, is this all because of me?”

“Umhmm,” Clarke says, biting her lip as Bellamy uses his fingers to part the lips of her cunt and coat his fingers in her arousal. “I love it when you call me in here, get all wet knowing you wanna fuck me.”

Bellamy groans and teases her opening with his finger as his thumb brushes her clit in slow circles. “Been wanting to do this all night,” he admits.

“Please, Bell,” she whimpers, his teasing paired with her growing arousal quickly becoming too much. 

“What do you need?” he asks as he continues to stroke her.

“Fingers. Please,” she pants. 

Bellamy slides his middle and index fingers into her throbbing cunt, and Clarke immediately sobs with relief. She drops her forehead to his shoulder and rolls her hips, urging him to find that spot within her that has her seeing stars. Bellamy crooks his fingers and rubs her G-spot, his thumb rolling her clit in tight circles.

“Oh, fuck. Just like that, Bellamy.”

“I got you, pretty girl,” he promises before kissing her temple and pumping his fingers in and out of her faster. 

“Bellamy,” she keens, biting his shoulder as she gets close to the edge of her climax.

“I got you, baby. Go ahead and come for me.”

“I’m so close,” she pants, her eyes screwed shut.

“I know you are. Come on my fingers, Clarke. I make you feel good, don’t I?”

“Oh, god,” she sputters as her hips go still, her back arching as her orgasm rips through her. 

Bellamy slows his fingers, letting her ride his hand through her climax and carrying her through the aftershocks. Clarke looks up at him with hooded eyes, and he’s smiling at her sweetly. He slips his hand from her sopping wet cunt and brings his fingers to his lips, licking the taste of her away. Bellamy smiles at the wanton noise she makes. He drops his hand to her thigh and brings his other one up to cup her cheek and push a strand of hair off her sweat-slicked forehead. 

He leans forward and kisses her, messy and wet since Clarke is still too blissed out to do more than just let him. 

“You okay?” he checks.

“Perfect,” she says dazedly, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly.

“Think we can get another one out of you?” he asks, squeezing her hip.

“You finally gonna fuck me, Bellamy?” 

Clarke lays a line of kisses up the thick column of his throat and he groans. She mouths at the underside of his jaw while she pulls his belt off and undoes the snap on his pants. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, tipping her head up so he can kiss her feverishly. A rush of butterflies fill her chest at his words, but she tries to tamp them down. Bellamy always says things he doesn’t mean when she has her hands on his dick.

He lifts his hips so Clarke can push his pants and briefs down just enough to pull his cock free. He’s hard and heavy in her hand, and Bellamy makes a strangled sound when she wraps her hand around him and strokes him. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so good to me,” he says when she runs her thumb over his swollen head and brings her finger to her mouth to lick off the precum she gathered. 

“It’s what, you pay me for, after all.”

He stills and frowns. “Don’t say that. It makes you sound like a hooker. This isn’t a part of your job description.”

Clarke looks into his eyes and sees that he’s honestly worried. She leans forward and captures his lips in a slow kiss while she continues to stroke his cock. 

“I only fuck you because I want to,” she promises. 

He runs his thumb down her cheek. “We don’t have to keep doing this. I know we never talked about--”

She kisses him again, trying to be as reassuring as she can. “We never had to talk about it. I want this as much as you do.”

“You sure?” Bellamy asks, his brow still creased. 

“Please fuck me, Bellamy.”

He smiles and nips at her lower lip. Bellamy replaces her hand on his cock and pushes her panties aside, lines himself up with her entrance. Clarke’s breath stutters as he runs his cock along her slit, coating himself in her slick juices before slowly pushing into her aching cunt. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he groans as he slides further into her. 

They kiss, sloppy and hungry, until Bellamy bottoms out and Clarke gasps. 

“You okay?” he asks.

Clarke nods breathlessly. She tilts her head back and Bellamy mouths at her breasts while she gets used to the familiar stretch of him. The muscles of her cunt flutter around his thick length, and when the burn turns into pleasure so good her eyes water, Clarke rolls her hips, sliding him out of her and slowly back in. She slides her arms around his shoulders, her fingers finding his soft curls. Bellamy’s hands splay over her hips, and he rocks her slowly back and forth on his lap, taking his time with fucking her. 

“You feel so good on my cock, pretty girl. Taking it so well. Could fuck you all night.”

Clarke lifts herself up slightly higher on her knees and drops down harder onto his length, pushing him deeper inside her and crying out when his swollen cockhead hits a particularly sensitive spot.

“That’s it, baby,” Bellamy encourages, rubbing his thumb against the skin of her hip. “Bounce on my cock, Clarke. Show me how good you take it.”

He meets her thrust for thrust, pushing himself deep into her core and chasing the sound she makes when he hits her sweet spot. His hands on her hips guide her up and down, and Clarke pushes her chest forward so Bellamy can nip at her nipples, bury his face in her bouncing tits. 

Her walls start to flutter, clenching down around his shaft. One of his hands flits between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing it quickly.

“I’m so close, Bell. Gonna come soon.”

“Yeah, you are,” he says, giving a particularly hard thrust upwards. Clarke cries out and screws her eyes shut. “What do you need, baby? Want you to come on my cock. Tell me what you need to come.”

Clarke takes his right hand from her hip and brings it up to her throat. She tips her head back and lets Bellamy wrap his hand around her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against the spot where her heartbeat races, pulse thundering. The movement of her hips quickens, becomes sloppier the closer she gets. 

“I’m so close,” she cries, and Bellamy presses down with his thumb, his fingers closing around her throat, and black spots dance in Clarke’s vision. 

Her orgasm starts at her toes and shoots through her, stronger than the first, and making her cunt clench around Bellamy’s cock. She cries out as her body shakes, her climax setting her body on fire. Bellamy relaxes his grip on her throat but doesn’t relent on her clit, rubbing her faster still and thrusting up into her hard. 

“Bella--” Clarke babbles, his name cut short as a whining keen replaces any semblance of words as third orgasm starts before the second one is even done.

She falls forward, clenching to his shoulders as her release floods through her. He slows his thumb on her clit and rubs his hand up and down her back, easing her down from her high. 

“Bellamy,” she whimpers, “Bellamy, please.”

She tucks her head against the side of his neck, her eyes closing sleepily.

“What is it, beautiful?” he asks quietly, still thrusting in and out of her, the movement of his hips becoming sloppier the closer he gets to his own undoing. 

Her breath comes out in heavy pants. “Come inside me,” she says, her voice quiet and drained. She turns her head slightly to kiss the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he groans, his thrusts stuttering.

She slides her hands into the curls at the base of his neck, playing with his hair gently. “‘S’okay if you do,” she mumbles. “Want you to come inside me.”

“Not tonight, Princess. No condom,” he says, pulling out and stroking his cock. It barely takes a second before he’s spurting thick white strings of come onto her stomach, grunting her name as he climaxes.

Clarke lifts her head from his shoulder, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, and kisses him softly. Bellamy runs a hand up and down her spine and pulls her against him, melting into her kiss. 

“I should go,” she says quietly when she breaks away.

Bellamy lifts her with him as he stands up, and sets her down on his desk. He brushes her hair off her forehead and uses a tissue to clean off her belly. 

“Thanks for the stress relief,” he says with a smile.

She grins shyly. “I’m here for you anytime you need it,” she says, like the dutiful employee she is.

It’s harder to shut the feelings out at times like this, when they’re both tired and soft with each other, but she needs to. Bellamy is her boss, and she’s his employee, and keeping his stress levels down, no matter how she goes about it, can just be work, if she tries hard enough to convince herself.

Bellamy pulls his pants up as he turns away from her. She can see the way his shoulders slump as he retrieves her shirt from the floor of his office.

“Why do you always do that?” he says, sounding exasperated.

“Do what?” she asks, taking her shirt and bra from him. 

He looks away again as she slides her bra on and fastens it behind her. 

“Shut me out. Pretend like what we just did means nothing to you. Make me feel like you just do it because you feel like you have to.”

Oh. She pushes her arms through her blouse, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Bell.”

He comes forward to stand between her legs, his dress pants low on his hips and chest still bare. His eyes are dark, and Clarke can’t look away from him when he reaches forward to cup her face and kiss her deeply. She whimpers, her heart hammering in her chest. Clarke leans a hand back on his desk to keep her balance as Bellamy crowds into her, knocking something over and off the edge of his desk. He doesn’t even flinch, just keeps kissing her, licking against the seam of her lips and teasing her with his teeth. 

He forces her further back and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, gripping his biceps to keep him close against her. He’s never kissed her like this, not during sex, and never kissed her after sex before, either. He relents after what feels like an eternity, and Clarke gasps for breath, her pulse racing as she looks up into his eyes. 

“I knew you felt it, too,” he whispers and pulls back, but stays between her legs.

Her arms are still around his shoulders as he starts doing up the buttons on her blouse. There’s no point in lying to him. It’s been more than just sex to Clarke for months, but she refused to say anything that might jepordize her career. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks her, and she knows what he wants to know, but doesn’t know how to tell him that she thought he was just using her because she was the most accessible person in his life at the moment.

He shakes his head when she doesn’t answer. “It doesn’t matter. I should have told you a long time ago that you were more than just an easy fuck.” It’s like he could read her mind.

He finishes doing up her buttons and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “Have you booked my ticket to the conference in Denver on the twenty-fifth?” he asks, back to business as usual.

“Not yet,” she says. “I was going to do that on Monday.”

“Get two tickets,” he tells her. “I want you to come with me.”

She never goes to conferences with Bellamy, and tells him as much. “You don’t need your assistant there, Bellamy.”

“No,” he says, “But there is this charity dinner I’d like my girlfriend to accompany me to.” He looks up at her hopefully, and Clarke doesn’t know what to say. He kisses her slowly, his hands on her thighs. “Use the company credit card. And make sure you get yourself the nicest room,” he says against her mouth.

She lays a quick peck on his lips. “I usually always get you the nicest room,” she says. “Where will you sleep if I’ve got the best room?”

A playful smile spreads across his face, making his eyes sparkle. “With you, hopefully,” he says, giving her the answer she was hoping for. 

She slides off his desk and he really has to lean down to kiss her and reach for her hand. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr!](youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com)


End file.
